Interruptions
by DanielTheWaterTankAndTheFoetus
Summary: Harry and Ginny would have a more-than-satisfactory relationship . . . if only they didn't get interrupted so often. Can be considered as a series of one-shots, but most of them are interconnected. OC introduced in Chapter 2 for comic purposes.
1. Split Ends

**A/N: This is a fic I wrote about two years ago for the purpose of provoking the lovely Judai, one of the three friends with whom I share this account. As a consequence, it's not very well-written, but I'm too lazy to improve it. The first chapter, unfortunately, contains neither foetuses (see profile) nor other sorts of mind-effing weirdness, so stay tuned for the next installment!**

**- Janine**

* * *

Chapter One: Split Ends

"Harry, you are an incredibly tactless and dim-witted –"

"Okay, okay!" Harry interrupted. "What have I done, anyway?"

He, Hermione and the Weasleys had barely gotten through the front door when Hermione had rounded on him.

"Ginny – was – crying," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"I know!" he said impatiently, ignoring the swoop of guilt in his stomach.

"DO YOU WANT TO BREAK UP WITH HER AGAIN OR WHAT?" Hermione yelled.

Harry stared.

"Exactly," she said, seeming satisfied with his startled look. "You were supposed to console her, not leave it to George, who's got quite enough on his mind without a howling little sister blowing her nose on his dress robes!"

"She wasn't howling or blowing her nose on his dress robes!" said Harry furiously, trying to ignore another swoop of guilt.

"You know what I mean! For heaven's sake, it was his twin brother's funeral, what do you expect? If you've got any sense, go to Ginny right now and do something about all of this!"

Hermione was fixing him with such a venomous glare that he felt quite unnerved. "Alright," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. He turned and climbed the stairs to the first floor, quite conscious of Hermione's eyes burning into the back of his head.

He paused at Ginny's door, wondering if he really ought to do this. Perhaps Ginny now thought he was not good enough for her? After a few moments, he raised his hand and knocked.

The door opened a crack, and a pair of brown eyes appeared behind it, still a bit puffy from crying. For a split second they just stared at each other; then Ginny did something Harry had not at all expected – she flung the door wide, threw her arms around him and planted her lips firmly onto his.

It was very short. Harry barely had time to register what had happened before she broke away and stepped back, panting slightly.

"I'm sorry," she said shakily. "It's just – you've been avoiding me, and . . ."

"Yeah, well," said Harry, still feeling a bit dazed, "Hermione thinks you need me, so . . ."

"She's not wrong," said Ginny, pulling him into the room and closing the door. She sat down on her bed and patted the spot next to her. Harry sat.

For a few minutes they sat in silence, gazing out the window at the orchard below. Then Ginny pulled the hairpin out of her hair and said, "Check for any split ends, will you?"

"Er, okay," said Harry, startled at this sudden command. He reached out and took a tendril of bright red hair and angled it towards the light, but his mind was not on split ends. He was alone with Ginny, and she apparently needed him . . . his brain seemed to have gone fuzzy, and he was now playing with Ginny's hair instead of checking for split ends, and, judging by the expression on her face, Ginny didn't really care about split ends either . . .

"D'you think I could ask you something?" Harry asked after a while, still winding a lock of Ginny's hair around his finger.

"I think you'll find that you can, one of these days," Ginny replied.

"Well," he proceeded, "if I asked you, what would you say?"

Ginny looked at him. "I would say 'yes'," she said, without the tiniest hint of embarrassment.

Harry couldn't help it. A broad grin spread slowly across his face. "Well, let's just hope you won't have changed your mind when I do ask you," he said.


	2. Love, Desire and Hogwarts

**A/N: Well, all right, there are no foetuses in this fic as a whole. Take that as a blessing, guys.**

**This chapter is written from Ginny's POV because . . . I don't know, I felt like it at the time or something? I can't remember.**

* * *

Chapter Two: Love, Desire and Hogwarts

Ginevra Molly Weasley, age fifteen. Known more commonly as Ginny. Relatively good looks, relatively good grades, fairly popular, quite skilled at Quidditch and well trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts and duelling, most notably with her powerful Bat-Bogey Hex.

That was me in fifth year. Just your average headstrong teenager who grew up with a whole bunch of brothers on top of a pigsty. And yet, how was I, _I _of all people, supposed to be a match for Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived; Harry Potter, the boy who caused You-Know-Who's fall from power?

Naturally, I admired him the first time I set eyes on him, the boy with the lightning scar, at King's Cross Station. He was hardly eleven, with a shock of untidy black hair and bright green eyes. Yet there was something special about him. But then, of _course _there was something special about him. No one knew how he had survived at the age of one, when You-Know-Who himself had tried to kill him.

After four years of hopeless longing, I managed to convince myself, with the help of Hermione Granger, that there were plenty of other boys who would be simply delighted to have a chance to go out with me. Hermione was quite right, of course. And so I looked in this place and that, and chose Michael Corner eventually. He was alright at first, I suppose, but then turned out to be too much of a weakling to suit my tastes. Though I have to say, I was in a foul mood when I dumped him, because I knew Harry was dating Cho Chang, but I soon found out that she had been dumped too.

I thought that maybe I had another chance with Harry, but before I could really do anything, Dean Thomas asked me out, and, well, I didn't know if I really wanted to, but I said I would, and that was the end of that. The problem? He was just your typical soppy boyfriend who tries _so hard _to 'look after' their girlfriend. So I dumped him as well.

But then one night I heard from Hermione and my brother Ron in the Gryffindor common room that Harry was currently dating a Muggle girl called Yagz, who lived in Australia.

"What?" I said in disbelief, when they told me.

"Keep it down, Ginny!" Ron hissed.

"Well, it's true," said Hermione casually, moving closer to the fire.

"How has he been seeing her when she's in Australia?"

"He's been using his invisibility cloak. Once he gets out of the school grounds, he just Disapparates," said Ron promptly.

I raised my eyebrows, starting to think this was just some stupid joke. "He hasn't even got his test."

"Well, I dunno how he's been doing it, really," confessed Ron, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"I don't approve, of course," said Hermione loftily. "The amount of trouble he could get into! But there's no stopping him once he really wants to do something."

That night, when I went up to bed, I figured that I did have a place for Harry Potter in my heart after all, judging by the amount of jealousy I felt towards this Yagz girl. As I tried to fall asleep, images of Harry and this random girl kissing kept popping up in my head, but then it changed . . .

Harry's face swam into focus, wearing an oddly benign smile.

"What are you doing here, Harry?" I heard myself say, but my voice sounded strangely distant. As far as I could see, I was still in my bed in the girls' dormitory, and boys could not get in, no matter how hard they tried.

"You do know I was seeing a girl in Australia?" said Harry, still smiling.

"Yes," I said stiffly.

"Well," he continued, "I told Ron and Hermione to tell you, because I wanted to show you that I'm better than Michael Corner and Dean Thomas. I can Apparate already, and they can't, can they? The point is, I really like you, Ginny."

My eyes shot open. Yes, I was still in the girls' dormitory, but there was no Harry smiling at down at me. Despite the surge of disappointment in my stomach, I knew that the real Harry would neither have said such things nor acted so strangely. Feeble light filtering through the hangings on my four-poster told me it was morning.

After getting up and dressing, I headed down to the common room. At the bottom of the stairs, I was met by a strange sight. Harry, very red in the face, was sitting in an armchair, talking agitatedly to a confused-looking Ron and an anxious-looking Hermione.

". . . said something about blueberries – and milk . . . something about how she knew that my – my – you know – _fluids _– tasted like that . . ."

"What?!" Hermione gasped. "You didn't actually – actually let her –"

"Of course not!" Harry yelped, his face now resembling a spherical beetroot. "And she kept saying my name in this really creepy way – you'd think she was trying to haunt me or something!"

"What, like this?" asked Ron, and after clearing his throat, he said very slowly and softly, "_Haaa – ryyy _. . ."

"Ron!" Hermione snapped, "This is serious!" but Harry nodded.

"Alright, alright!" said Ron. "But what did you do?"

"I ran for it, of course! Well, technically I Disapparated, but . . ." He spotted me standing at the foot of the stairs with my mouth hanging open, and gazed at me in apparent horror.

Ron and Hermione turned around to see what Harry was staring at.

"Oh," said Hermione after a long and awkward silence. "Morning, Ginny."

"Is it true?!" I demanded, finding my voice and marching over to them. "Everything you just said?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks, but remained silent. Harry, however, fixed me with a defiant stare and said, "Yes."

"Well," I said coldly, suddenly feeling very angry, "you're obviously having a lot of fun with this girl, aren't you?"

Harry stared at me for a moment; then he got up, looked me straight in the eye and said, "I know I'm a stupid git, okay? And I also know that you – well –" He trailed off.

I knew this was the moment. I looked into those luminous green eyes for a second before closing my own, and, well, no one can really remember every little detail of kissing someone.

I'll just say that when it was over, and I opened my eyes again, Ron was cheering and Hermione was clearly trying not to grin too broadly. I can honestly say that I don't know how I felt then.

Later that day, Harry pulled me aside after Transfiguration and said, "Dumbledore caught me Apparating just outside the grounds last night."

I stared at him. "What did he do?"

Harry shrugged. "He gave me a huge lecture and made me promise not to do anything of the sort again. Like I would, anyway. But he also said something else."

"What?" I asked.

He grinned. "'Love will always be given at Hogwarts to those who desire it.'"


	3. Reminiscent Foam and Bubbles

Chapter Three: Reminiscent Foam and Bubbles

Harry was soaked to the skin. He pushed open the great oak front doors and stumbled into the torch-lit Entrance Hall, pulling a sopping wet Ginny along with him. The doors slammed shut with a loud bang, blocking out the vicious storm raging outside. Ginny pulled out her wand and gave it a complicated flourish, and Harry felt his robes and hair dry.

"Thanks," he panted, removing his glasses and checking them for damage.

"Hmph," said Ginny. "Damn the weather – I would've brought a cloak if I'd been forewarned." She shivered in her emerald green robes, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

The double doors of the Great Hall opened, revealing a tall, severe-looking woman with her hair in a very tight bun.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Harry politely.

"Oh, good evening, Potter," she said briskly. "Good to see you're early – though I wasn't expecting you to bring Miss Weasley – or rather – Mrs Potter," she finished, for Harry and Ginny's wedding had taken place at the Burrow the previous week.

"Well, I wanted to see Hogwarts again, Professor," said Ginny earnestly.

"I see," said Professor McGonagall. "You're quite welcome, of course. Come this way."

She led them into the Great Hall, which looked exactly as Harry had remembered it. The four long house tables stood parallel to each other, filled with students clearly halfway through their lunch. The enchanted ceiling was as grey and stormy as the sky outside.

As Harry, Ginny and Professor McGonagall walked down the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, excited students began to shriek and point.

"Look, it's Harry Potter!"

"Harry Potter? _He's _the Auror who'll be talking to us about careers?"

"Who's that next to him?"

"Oh my gosh, is that Ginny Weasley from the Holyhead Harpies?"

Harry grinned over at the Gryffindor table, which caused a couple of hopeful-looking third-year girls to squeal and go bright red.

"Join us for a bite of lunch," said Professor McGonagall, ignoring the overexcited students, as they reached the staff table. She waved her wand and conjured two chairs beside her own. They sat down and helped themselves to mashed potatoes and salad.

"Harry! Ginny!" called a voice. Neville was waving energetically at them from the other end of the table.

"Hi, Neville!" Harry replied, accidentally spraying Professor Flitwick with flecks of potato. "I mean, Professor Longbottom! How's Herbology?"

"Great!" said Neville, his round face lit with enthusiasm. "The Mandrakes and getting really moody, though, they don't fancy this weather."

After lunch, Harry proceeded to his old Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom to wait for the fifth-years, who would shortly be listening to him drone on and on about the benefits of a career as an Auror. Ginny had decided to tag along.

"Go and visit the Gryffindor common room or something," he told her. "This'll be as boring as Professor Binns' classes, you wait."

"No it won't," she replied. "Look, here they come."

Sure enough, a large group of students was pouring into the room as she spoke. A few girls seemed to be debating over whether or not to get Ginny's autograph.

When they had sat down, Harry cleared his throat and said, "Hi, I'm Harry Potter, as you all know –" There he was forced to pause, as a large group of girls erupted into squeals.

"If you don't shut up I won't even sign your hats with dragon dung," said Ginny carelessly, but the girls fell silent at once.

"Well," Harry continued, "The Ministry feels that the number of students hoping to become Aurors is slowly declining, so I'm here to tell you about . . ."

When he had finally completed his speech, it was nearing four in the afternoon. He and Ginny were left alone in the classroom after the fifth-years had filed out.

"Whew," said Harry, mopping his brow with the sleeve of his robes. "I don't think I'll do that ever again, even with Kingsley and McGonagall breathing down my neck."

Ginny smirked.

"I bet you enjoyed that," said Harry, suddenly defensive.

"Even if I did, I wouldn't say so," said Ginny indifferently. "It would be unwise to have a row with my husband a week after marrying him."

"Hey, Ginny," said Harry, choosing to ignore the last comment, "D'you want to play Quidditch? It looks like the rain's clearing up, anyway. We can probably borrow some school brooms – and we'll have the pitch to ourselves."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "So _this _is how men display their sentimentality?"

Five minutes later, they were soaring around the Quidditch pitch, trying to beat each other to the Snitch, having decided that a one-on-one game with a Quaffle was far too dull. By the time Harry had very narrowly won, the sky was darkening and both he and Ginny were drenched in sweat.

"I think I need a bath," Ginny grumbled, as they made their way back to the castle.

"So do I, if you haven't already noticed," replied Harry vaguely. Then a truly wonderful idea occurred to him – surely, it wouldn't hurt, just this once?

Upon stepping through the front doors of the castle, he spotted a boy with a Prefect badge gleaming on his chest, and cornered him at the bottom of the marble staircase.

"What's the password to the Prefects' bathroom?" Harry demanded. "The other boys' toilets were filthy in my day."

"It's 'strawberry soap'," said the boy, looking slightly taken-aback, his cheeks reddening as he said the words.

"Thanks," said Harry, grabbing Ginny's hand and dragging her past the boy and up the staircase. He distinctly heard the boy mutter something about a 'bloody password' behind him.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Ginny asked, catching her breath as they reached the fourth door to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered.

"Never been a Prefect, have you? _Strawberry soap_," he muttered at the door. It opened. Grinning broadly, he led Ginny inside.

He surveyed her closely; her mouth fell open in surprise, and her eyes darted from corner to corner, taking in the enormous bath, the magnificent chandelier and the painting of a beautiful mermaid, who was currently snoozing in her frame.

"Wow," said Ginny, after almost a minute's silence. Then she said jokingly, "I bet this was Ron's favourite bit of being a Prefect."

"Yeah," said Harry, laughing.

"Wait a moment," said Ginny suddenly, "We're taking a bath here? Together?"

"Well, I s'pose," said Harry nervously. He had not thought of how Ginny would react.

"Er, OK then," said Ginny, blushing. "We'll need these, though." She pulled out her wand and conjured a flowery bikini and a pair of boxers out of thin air.

"Does the wizarding world have bikinis, then?" asked Harry, feeling slightly disappointed – but what had he expected?

"No, Dad found them very interesting at one point," replied Ginny. "He tried to get Mum to wear them." She threw the boxers to Harry.

Trying not to think about Mrs Weasley wearing a bikini, Harry caught the boxers and hurriedly changed into them, determinedly not looking at Ginny. When he finally raised his eyes, Ginny had changed into the bikini and, though Harry privately thought that floral garments did not suit her, seemed ten times prettier than she had been a minute ago.

He stepped up to the edge of the bath and turned on each of the taps in turn. Ginny was intrigued by the many types of bubble bath they contained.

When the bath was full, Harry recklessly jumped straight in, splashing Ginny with hot water and foam. Ginny lowered herself in a little more cautiously. Harry was glad to rid himself of the dried sweat coating his skin, and felt very contented as he leaned against the side of the bath.

Then, without warning, something grasped him firmly around the ankle and pulled him under the surface before he had time to draw breath. He flailed around wildly for a moment; then his head broke the surface again, and as he coughed and spluttered. Ginny, who had surfaced a moment after he had, burst out laughing. He joined in as soon as he had caught his breath, and Ginny flung her soapy arms around him and pressed her lips onto his . . .

There was a loud bang, and Harry and Ginny broke apart. To Harry's horror, a girl with brown hair, brown eyes and very long and curly eyelashes stood at the door, apparently frozen in shock. Then she gave a small squeal and hurried out of sight.

"Who was that?" asked Ginny tremulously, her eyes fixed on the space where the girl's head had been.

"Yagz," said Harry in a hollow voice. "You know, the girl I was dating in Australia."

"What?!" Ginny exclaimed, tearing her eyes away from the doorway. "But she's a Muggle, isn't she?"

"Yeah," said Harry, still feeling horrified. "God knows how she got in here."

"Well, she's gone now, so we can resume our session, can't we?" said Ginny matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," said Harry dazedly.

Ginny beamed and locked Harry in a tight embrace again.


	4. Why no one should ever stalk Harry

Chapter Four: Why no one should ever stalk Harry

"Have a good time, Harry!" said Hermione brightly.

It was a warm spring day, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, George and Ginny were assembled outside Harry and Ginny's new house in the village of Ottery St Catchpole. Harry was carrying a small backpack that he had put an undetectable extension charm on, which contained a tent that Hermione had produced, a large portion of Mrs Weasley's excellent cooking, clothes and other everyday objects.

"Look after Ginny, will you?" said Ron, looking anxious.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, right." Though on second thoughts, she might die of fright if she saw –

"The monster," said George. "That's it, isn't it, Ronniekins? You're scared that our baby sister'll be killed by the monster. Fat chance."

"What monster?" said Ginny suspiciously. "Where are we going, Harry?"

"I've told you, you'll see when we get there," said Harry, trying not to grin.

He grabbed Ginny's hand. "Right then, we'll see you when we get back." Raising a hand in farewell, he turned on the spot, and had a split second's sensation of suffocating nothingness before the world opened up to him again, and he and Ginny were standing in a deep valley surrounded by rolling green hills under a bright blue sky. A vast lake stood before them, shimmering in the sunlight.

"Here we are then," he announced. "The Scottish Highlands."

Ginny let go of his hand, and after drawing in the wonderfully fresh air, said happily, "Well, it's good enough for me."

Harry grinned. He dislodged the tent from his backpack, pulled out his wand, muttered, "_Erecto_," and watched as it planted itself firmly on the shore of the lake.

"Hang on," said Ginny suddenly, "isn't this Loch Ness?"

Harry looked up. How had she realised so soon? "Yeah," he said. "But don't worry about the monster, Luna's been studying it for ages, and it doesn't seem that dangerous –"

"So that's the monster you were talking about," said Ginny huffily. "Well, obviously you wanted some other company."

"No, that's not–"

"We're not anywhere near Hogwarts, are we, Harry?" Ginny fixed him with a beady eye. "Are you thinking of letting everyone know that we're on a honeymoon?"

"No, of course not," he said quickly. "I thought having the monster here would be interesting, that's all."

Ginny raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Let's look inside the tent, shall we?" Harry said hastily, hoping he hadn't ruined their holiday already.

To his relief, Ginny shrugged and followed him, ducking under the tent flap. Harry looked around, examining Hermione's handiwork.

The inside of the tent looked a lot like the one he'd stayed in at the Quidditch World Cup (magically expanded, with a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen), except for the fact that most of the furniture was pink and frilly, and reminded him unpleasantly of Madam Puddifoot's teashop in Hogsmeade.

"Hermione's brilliant, as usual, but I don't think much of her tastes," remarked Ginny.

Harry strode into the bedroom and dumped his backpack on the bed (which, fortunately, wasn't pink or frilly).

"Harry," Ginny was standing in the doorway, peering into the room, "since we're married, don't you think we should – you know –" she gestured rather jerkily towards the bed.

"No," said Harry immediately, his face heating up, "I mean," he amended, seeing the look on Ginny's face, "we'll have plenty of time when we get back, right? Don't you want to do some other things first?"

"I suppose," said Ginny, but she stalked off, looking dejected.

It turned out, however, that there was not much to do at all in the deserted valley, except eat, sleep, talk, go for a dip in the lake while keeping constant watch for the monster, and have a few kissing sessions. Nevertheless, the young couple thoroughly enjoyed themselves and even managed to get themselves into a few precarious situations: sometime during the third day, the forty-foot-long Loch Ness monster propelled itself out of the water while Harry and Ginny were frolicking in the lake and gave Ginny such a fright that she instinctively shot a well-aimed Bat Bogey Hex straight at its head. After that first encounter the monster reappeared numerous times, once lifting Ginny ten feet into the air and alarming her so much that she refused to go anywhere near the lake thereafter.

The honeymoon continued in this manner with nothing worse than the monster showing up until halfway through the second week. The sun was just setting, and Harry and Ginny were sitting outside the tent, embracing fervently and looking as though they were eating each other, when, quite suddenly, Harry broke away and looked warily about.

"What's wrong?" asked Ginny, surprised.

"I feel like we're being watched," said Harry, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"That's ridiculous," said Ginny. "You know we're alone. Why would anyone else be here?" Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Harry around the neck and kissed him again.

A loud shuffling from behind the tent made them start and break apart again. Harry jumped to his feet and pulled out his wand. Beside him, Ginny did the same. They crept cautiously around the tent and peered behind it. What they saw made Harry's jaw drop.

A girl was crouching in the shadows, looking terrified that she had been spotted. Even by the dim light of the rapidly setting sun, Harry could not mistake the long, curly eyelashes.

"Yagz!" he bellowed, feeling angrier than he had in ages. "WHAT ARE YOU – WHY ARE YOU – YOU STUPID, IDIOTIC –"

"Harry!" Ginny yelled.

He ignored her. He could feel the anger pulsing through him, yearning to be let out. "FIRST YOU SAY ALL THESE CREEPY THINGS TO ME SO THAT I HAVE TO BREAK UP WITH YOU, THEN YOU INTERRUPT ME WHILE I'M HAVING A BATH, AND NOW YOU STALK ME ON MY HONEYMOON?!"

"Harry, get a grip on yourself!" Ginny cried hopelessly.

Yagz cowered on the ground, shaking with fear.

Harry snapped. He thrust his wand out and roared, "_STUPEFY! REDUCTO! CONFRINGO! EXPULSO! DENSAUGEO! FURNUNCULUS! INCENDIO! PETRIFICUS TOTALUS –_"

He was so angry that every single one of the jinxes and hexes missed, but even so, Ginny lunged forward, grabbed his arms and shouted, "Harry, stop! You'll kill her!"

"Good!" Harry struggled against Ginny's strong grip.

Yagz seemed to have come to her senses, and ran for it. She soon disappeared behind the nearest mountain.

Ginny let go of Harry, who slid to the ground, panting.

"You should have let me kill her," he said in a voice of forced calm.

"Harry, will you please calm down, she's only your ex-girlfriend! Would you have done that to Cho?"

"DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT CHO!"

"All right, all right –"

"Actually," said Harry, with a rather unnerving change back to his normal tone, "Let's go back inside. There's something I want to do."

Ginny followed, puzzled, as Harry led the way back into the tent. She made to sit down, but Harry called, "In here!" and pulled her into the bedroom and closed the door.

"Right," he said in a business-like tone, "let's do it, Ginny. Let's do it while we've got the chance." There was a sort of manic glint in his eye.

Ginny grinned. "As you wish."

* * *

"So, how was it?" asked Ron, a week later. They were spread out on squishy armchairs and sofas in the sitting room of Harry and Ginny's house.

"Er . . . eventful," said Harry.

"C'mon, Harry, it can't have been eventful if Ginny didn't get killed by the monster," said George, pretending to look disappointed.

"Well, the monster did throw her into the air," said Harry reluctantly. "And, well, she just _might _be, you know – expecting."

Hermione looked up from her book and gasped. "That's wonderful!"

"Oh, that reminds me," said Ginny suddenly, "how's Angelina, George?"

"She's huge," answered George promptly. "Looks like a blue whale."

"Oi, Harry hasn't told us what was 'eventful' about his honeymoon yet," interrupted Ron.

"He almost killed his ex," said Ginny shortly.

Hermione frowned. "You mean the one he was dating in Australia?"

Ginny nodded, and told them the whole story.

"Wow." Ron looked astounded when she'd finished.

"You really could have killed her," said Hermione in a hushed voice.

"I think we'd better tell the whole town that it's not a good idea to stalk Harry," said George, actually getting up from his armchair.

"Oh, shut up," Harry muttered, his face brick red.


End file.
